Visitation
by CupCakeyyy
Summary: Translation of 'Heimsuchung' / What would you do if you were to find out that your whole life you weren't alone?
1. The Final Battle

Hey there :) This is the translation of my second story 'Heimsuchung'. English isn't my mother tongue so I'm sorry for any misspells or mistakes in general. And it's pretty late right now and I'm extremely tired so it is possible that this chapter has a few more mistakes than usual. I just wanted to upload this as quickly as possible. I don't know how often I'll be able to update because I'm still writing the german version. I hope you'll enjoy reading :D

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series isn't mine. Although I desperately wish it was...

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The Final Battle

Everything around him was covered in dirt and smoke was everywhere. Smoky tables which had been thrown into the corridors, smashing the windows of the classrooms, smoky holes in the walls, where dark curses had blasted off parts of the walls. Bleeding bodies of nameless students, parents, Death Eaters, who had been slain by parts of the ceiling falling down or collapsing pillars and walls, hit by dark curses or had been the victim of sneakily used light curses or spells. Wherever you looked, you saw death and destruction.

The Hogwarts that everyone knew did not exist anymore. If one had been able to watch the sunrise with a smile on their face just a few months ago, it would become very clear that many students would never be able to experience it in the future, seeing the state of horror the castle was in just moments after the war had ended. Even the birds seemed to mourn as none of them welcomed the beginning of a new day. It was dead silent.

Harry dragged himself through a corridor that had been destroyed by a giant, climbed over debris and stumbles along the wall, panting, wincing in pain. He had to make it to the Trophy Room. Despite the incredibly sever pain, he moved forward and stumbled, barely keeping himself upright. Something lay at his feed, blocking his path. When he looked down, he felt sick. Parvati Patil. Her brown eyes stared at him motionlessly, condemning him. The war was won and yet they had lost so much – allies, friends, family. Innocent lives had been taken and he had been entangled in the centre of the fight – he had been the cause of the fight, of the whole war and he also had had to sacrifice so much.

He desperately clung to the corridor wall. He couldn't go any further. He would not make it to the Trophy Room. Panting, he pushed his with blood encrusted hand onto the gaping wound that took the right half of his abdomen. He did not know anymore whose blood was on his hands. He had lost track years ago. His parents had just been the beginning and yet it seems to him that this particular sacrifice had been the major one he had had to endure. The two people who had given him his life and had paid for it with their own.

He cursed as his legs gave way. Had he only been watchful like Mad-Eye had always tried to hammer into his thick brain again and again. Because of his little mishap, because of that one careless moment he was now trying desperately to haul himself into the Trophy Room and doing as much as humanly possible to spare himself as to not tear the gaping flesh wound covering his side any further.

He had just won the battle against Lord Voldemort and had watched as the body of the probably most powerful dark wizard had fallen as a black curse had knocked him to the ground. One of the few Death Eaters who had survived had not been able to bear the fall of his master and therefore the fall of his radical views and had shot the curse toward the wizarding world's saviour, laughing madly and giving the hero a life-threatening injury. But no one had noticed – no one except the victim. Harry had heard cries of joy when he had suddenly felt a sharp flash of pain. As he had pushed his hand, which had been trapped between his body and the muddy, bloody ground, onto his stomach, he had noticed that the soil had been getting wetter under him. The survivors had begun to carry the dead and injured into the castle and had paid no attention whatsoever when he had hauled himself up the stairs, groaning in agony, had stumbled through the entrance hall and had crawled up the marble staircase.

Why would they give him another second of their attention? He had fulfilled his destiny, his task, which had been placed into his crib even before his birth. He had fought to protect his life and that of everyone in the wizarding world his entire life, just to die at the right moment. He had been nothing more than a pawn of the magical world – a person on who one could went one's frustration, one that one could accuse and condemn because this person did not have anyone in their life that would provide any kind of comfort and sense of security anyway. Why should it even be like that? If a soldier had distractions in the form of feelings, which did not express the desire or need for revenge or hatred, he would lose his goal and might even dare to be a normal person. No, that could not be allowed in any way, kind or form. Not if there was another way. Even if this way would cause the individual the pain of loss and loneliness.

Harry could only guess where the others were at the moment, but to be completely honest, he didn't care. The only thing that mattered now was to get to the Trophy Room. He knew that he did not have a long time to live anymore and he just wanted to see a picture of his parents one last time before he was ready to see them again in heaven or wherever they were. His parents had been Head Students and therefore there was a photograph of them in school uniform with their badges pinned to the front of their robes in the Trophy Room, just like any other Head Student who had worn the badge before and after them, as well as photographs of the Quidditch teams. HE wanted to see his true family one last time. The people who had loved him more than anything. But he could not do it.

He fell to the ground and let out a blood-curling scream as a broken brick pressed into his wound.

*~*HP*~*

Some floors below in the Great Hall the injured were being cared for and the last dead bodies were being carried inside. The Weasleys were gathered around one of their sons. Fred had died in battle, the laughter still on his face. _Ironic_, Hermione thought. _He died at the same moment in which a family member had returned._ She wiped the tears from her eyes, only to find others following and running down her cheeks.

It was over. They had made it – _Harry_ had made it. At that thought, she sat up. _Harry._ She had not seen him since the final battle. All the things she had felt at that moment had completely distracted her from the happenings around her. Mourning the dead, joy for Harry's victory, but mostly gratefulness that Harry had survived. When Voldemort had emerged from the forest, being followed and surrounded by his Death Eaters, she had seen Harry's motionless body in Hagrid's arms… She stifled a sob. _He's alive_, she thought and took a deep, calming breath. _He's alive and safe._ But as much as she held onto that thought, something told her that his absence could mean nothing good.

_Calm down, Hermione. All is well. What could possibly have happened? All Death Eaters are either dead or on the run. And Voldemort is guaranteed to not rise again._

_And why exactly are you that restless then?_

_I'm not restless!_

_Oh, yes. You are! And you have every reason to be. After all, you have no idea where Harry is at the moment._

_I'm sure he just wanted to have some time for himself. I mean, after all, he has just survived the Killing Curse. He has every right to be a little upset and therefore he's allowed to retreat to a calmer place._

_And why did you not see him as he left? And why has nobody congratulated him? And most importantly, why didn't you be the first one who was with him after he had defeated Voldemort?_

_Well, we couldn't congratulate him, because he no longer –_

_Wrong! You were much too busy falling around Ron's neck and rejoice the fact that he's still alive. From the beginning on, he has had the better chance of survival than you and Harry put together!_

_Why shouldn't O be happy that Ron –_

_I didn't say that you aren't allowed to be happy about that, but being you I would maybe start thinking about what happened to Harry rather than just standing her mourning someone you barely know._

_Fred is Ron's brother! Why should I not… Oh God, now I'm having a fight with myself._

_Well, it has already come to that, hasn't it?_

_Shut up!_

"Ron?", she turned to the Weasleys, who grieved for their son and brother. "Do you know where Harry is? Have you seen him after Voldemort's fall?"

Ron turned around and glared at her, eyes swollen and red. "No, I have not seen your precious Harry, Hermione!"

Confused, she blinked at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what that's supposed to mean", he hissed and stood up. Mrs Weasley shot him an angry look. "My brother has just died Hermione! Right now I have other problems to deal with than worrying about Harry!"

"But Ron, Harry is our best friend! He doesn't have anybody else with whom he could possibly share his grief. He only has us!"

"Then go! Go find the on so sad Harry and offer him my condolences, will you? And while you're at it, tell him he has no right to act like this because he has no freakin' idea how it feels, okay? _You _have no idea what I am going through right now, Hermione!"

"He _does _know how it feels, Ronald! He has lost _every single one _who meant something to him. And now _you _attack him from behind!"

"_I _attack _him _from behind? What has he ever done for me, huh? He hasn't even told you to leave with me back in the forest! He hasn't even _tried_ to argue us out of hiding with him, of going on a suicide mission from what we've know at that point!"

"Of course he hasn't tried to dissuade us! _He needed us_!"

"Pff, as if", Ron rolled his eyes and knelt beside his dead brother again to hold his now cold hand.

"You know what? I'm going to look for Harry because no one here seems to be the slightest bit interested in how he's doing and where he is!"

With that, she spun around and stormed out of the Great Hall. She ignored Ron's angry shouts and rushed through the large double doors of the castle, turned right and ran to the Black Lake. In previous years, Harry had often sought refuge at the lake when he had wanted to be alone and think. She had never disturbed him, but had watched to see where he had been going. Especially after Cedric's death, he had often come to the lake, sat on a flat stone at the shore and had spend hours staring at the clear, black water surface. Whenever she had been looking for him, she had been able to find him here.

Hermione went around the last tree and stopped abruptly. The stone was empty. The only thing that was different here and pointed to the events of the last few hours was a pool of blood on the floor next to the stone. A few meters away lay a dead centaur. Hermione groaned as she saw the motionless body. She closed her eyes for a short moment and took a deep breath. _Just stay calm, Hermione. Take a deep breath. Ignore the dead body in front of you. Concentrate on Harry._ Sighing, she looked up and stared at the blood-red sunrise, which was reflected on the clear, flat surface of the lake. Where could Harry be?

_Okay. Let's just think logical for a moment. Places he likes to go to, where he feels safe…_ Hermione frowned. _Well, it isn't the lake. Maybe he is on the Quidditch Pitch?_ But even that proved to be false. Hermione desperately ran back to the castle. Where did Harry like to be? The Room of Requirement? _No, not that I know of. __Hm… _ She jogged up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and turned right. Perhaps the Common Room. After all, Hogwarts is Harry's first real home. With quick steps she hurried toward a portrait of an old man counting his Gobstones, which immediately swung open to reveal a secret passageway. She hurried up the stairs and whirled around the corner. The corridor which she had just reached led to some classrooms, the Trophy Room and the Grand Staircase and was totally destroyed. Parts of the walls and the ceiling were scattered all over the bloody floor, old tables, chairs and shelves were peeking through holes, behind which there had once been functioning classrooms. Even the walls had bloody fingerprints and splashes of blood on them that trickled toward the floor. Horrified, Hermione looked around. "Oh, my God!" The corridor looked like a battlefield. As if the final battle had taken place here and not on the grounds outside of the castle.

Slowly and carefully, Hermione crept forward. She stepped over large pieces of stone, tattered chairs and bodies of dead students, Death Eaters and probably parents as well. Some of the faces were covered in blood, others were almost completely clean. Her eyes widened as she stared into those of Parvati Patil. "Parvati", Hermione whispered and dropped to her knees beside her. "Oh my God, no!" A sob wrecked through her and she slapped her hand over her mouth. _No! Stand up! You have to find Harry! _She said to herself and picked herself up off the ground, trembling slightly. She was so incredibly tired. To hide for months on end, without eating proper food or sleeping more than three hours a night, with the constant fear of being caught – it all took its toll on her. Now that all the adrenaline was out of her system, she could barely stand straight.

She turned away from Parvati, but not before having closed her eyes. Bodies were lying everywhere. Some were missing limbs, others were looking as if they were asleep. She continued to move down the corridor, her eyes never leaving the ground in front of her as to not run into someone or something or slipping on one of the countless puddles of blood. And that's when she saw him. A couple of meters ahead of her someone lay crumbled on the floor, clothes bloodstained and hair suspiciously jet-black and unruly.

"HARRY!"

She rushed over to him, not bothering whether she had a dead bother under her feed or whether she fell over a piece of ceiling. "HARRY!"

She threw herself down next to the boy with jet-black hair and turned him onto his back. His face was relatively clean, but extremely pale. He had some wounds on his forehead and scratches on his cheek, a little bit of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. But she could say without any trouble whatsoever, who she was holding in her arms at this moment, sobbing and desperately trying to wake him up.

"Harry! Please, please stay with me!"

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A/N: Cliffhanger! *evil laugh* Hope, you'll leave a comment :D


	2. The Conversation

Here it is! The second chapter! I literally needed four pens to translate this whole chapter as they would either break or stop working. It was really annoying -.- Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy reading so my dear pens wouldn't have died without a reason *wipes-tear-from-cheek* Enjoy :D

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The Conversation

_Beep, beep, beep, beep…_

"Hurry!"

"I'm trying, but the bleeding won't stop!"

"We have to stop the bleeding!"

"The spell doesn't work!"

"It _has_ to work!"

"_Accio _bandage!"

"We're losing him!"

It wasn't more than ten minutes ago when she had found Harry on the floor of the corridor with a gaping flesh wound on his side, had grabbed him and had apparated both of them into the lobby of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Less than two minutes after she had found him, he had been torn from her arms and transported to the emergency room under the supervision of five healers. Ten minutes ago, she had still held him in her arms and had pushed the healer away from herself, who had tried in vain to persuade her to leave, but she remained stubbornly seated on the floor, hands red and shiny from his blood and trembling with exhaustion. Again and again, healers ran from the emergency room and came back with a colleague seconds later. Each time the door opened and a healer came out, the facial expressions were tense, even more so than the time before. She could literally see the panic written in those numerous worry lines on the foreheads and the straightness of the lips. Countless injured arrived in the lobby, some with a head wound, some limping, some unconscious and with attendance. But no one looked as terrible as Harry. She couldn't erase that sight from her memory. She could not forget how he had lain in her arms, pale, motionless and barely breathing.

Trembling, she inhaled the of disinfectant smelling hospital air. She felt sick. She could not believe that it had come to this. She had always thought they would make it – together. They would go through thick and thin, overcome all difficulties together and yet – now she was sitting on the floor of the entrance hall of the magical hospital, shivering, trembling, covered in blood and could barely think straight with fear. On the battlefield in the centre of the turmoil she had not had any problems with concentration. Her life and that of everyone else had been at stake, but she had managed to think clearly, to plan and to act accordingly. But now, even though she was meant to be relieved that they had survived and the pressure and looming danger had been lifted off of her shoulders, she could not think clearly. Her best friend was probably fighting for his life right now, possibly even dying and she couldn't do anything more than to stare at the healers leaving the room in which the most empathic and kind person she knew was fighting for his life, and register that the hospital staff continuously grew more panicky every time they left the emergency ward. She could hear pieces of bellowed commands, but her brain could not put this information in logical order. It just couldn't be! It just _mustn't _be! Harry mustn't die! He was the 'boy-who-_lived_'! Not the 'boy-who-died'!

She did not even notice that someone staggered in her direction, having extreme difficulties walking and fell over her outstretched legs. She did not even notice that that specific someone let loose a barrage of swear words in her direction. She didn't notice when another healer rushed over to where she was rooted onto the floor, helped the fallen person on their feed and shot her a dark look. She didn't care what other people thought of her. She didn't care how lone she had already been sitting on the icy marble floor. She just wanted that Harry got better, that he was able to survive. She wanted his heart to continue beating! With a dry sob, she pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged her legs. She rocked gently back and forth without ever taking her eyes off the door to the emergency room.

*~*HP*~*

"How is he?"

Hermione spun around in her seat next to Harry's bed and stared at Ginny Weasley.

"What does it look like?" She muttered, turning back to her best friend, who was lying in the bed before her, deathly pale. "If he survives the night, he should get through."

"That's good to hear", Ginny sniffled and walked slowly around the bedside to sit at Harry's right side, across from Hermione. "You know, I never stopped believing in him", she whispered as a tear ran down her cheek.

Hermione looked at her, puzzled.

"I know he broke up, but that was only because of the war", Ginny stared Hermione right in the eyes as if to challenge her to claim otherwise. "I've been waiting for him. All year long. I had no idea how he – you – have been, but there weren't any news that you had been caught and killed, so I figured you were doing all right. I mean, Harry's good at curses, you're brilliant with spells and Ron… well, he's just Ron. I knew you'd make it. And I hope that when Harry waked up, we can start over from where we have left off before the war", she smiled fondly at the quite dead-looking teenager in the hospital bed between them. "We just have to."

Hermione gulped. Ginny and Harry? Together? She looked down at her best friend, who looked almost too small and fragile in the oversized bed. His skin looked unhealthily greyish in comparison to the white pillow and blanket. Was she capable of imagining Harry and Ron's little sister getting back together again? If she was completely honest with herself, no. To her, it had always seemed as if Harry thought the relationship with Ginny to be some kind of escape from reality – a way for him to shirk his responsibility and duty, even if it was only for a few hours at a time. During sixth year after Harry and Ginny had been together for a few weeks, she had talked to him about it. She had wanted to know whether he had been happy, because if one deserved to be happy it was Harry James Potter. They had been sitting on the couch at night in front of the fire and had talked for hours. Ron had left just as he had found out the topic of their conversation, muttering something about Wizard's Chess and had climbed up the stairs to the Boy's Dormitory. That night, Harry had told her that he didn't know what to make out of his relationship with the fiery redhead. He had told her that he had been sure at the beginning that Ginny had been 'The One' for him. After all, he has smelled her in his Amortentia. That had to mean something, hadn't it? But then again, he hadn't felt completely comfortable in this relationship. She had asked for more than he had wanted to give her. _'I'm just not ready yet! I don't want to give that to just any girl'_, he had indicated quotation marks with his fingers, _'but to someone special. Someone with whom I feel completely at ease. Don't get me wrong, I like Ginny, very much so, but I don't know whether that's enough for the long run. I don't want to hurt her. She doesn't deserve that.'_

Hermione sighed. Harry was a good-hearted person, who wanted to please everyone. He didn't deserve a life like that and when she listened to her heart and not her brain, she didn't want him to get back together with Ginny. Sure, Ginny still had hope and Harry had sometimes searched the Marauder's Map for what seemed to be the location of the Girl's Dormitory when he had thought she had been asleep. But those moments had occurred more frequently in the time after Ron had accused him of him not caring about who died and why. She assumed that it had been the guilt impelling Harry to act like that. And the thing with the Amortentia… when they had covered that potion in class, she had done a lot of research. Such powerful potions fascinated her and she had wanted to find out exactly how this potion worked. During her research she had read that it was indeed possible that the special scent of the potion could change during the life of the wizard or witch smelling it. It didn't happen that often, but it was still possible. She hoped that this was the case with Harry.

"You'll have to ask him when he wakes up", Hermione said, unintentionally malicious. She liked Ginny, but she did not like how she treated her Harry. Wait a minute, _her _Harry?

Ginny looked up and blinked. She looked as if she had forgotten that she was not alone with Harry. Thank God, because she had not heard the anger in Hermione's voice. "Oh, yes, I'll probably do that."

Hermione watched the youngest Weasley with narrowed eyes as she leaned down to Harry and kissed him on his scratched cheek. "He will say yes", she murmured, more to herself than to Hermione. "You will, won't you, darling?" She smiled at him, ran her hand through his tousled hair one last time and stood up with a sigh.

"I have to go home again. Mum wasn't exactly thrilled when I told her I was going to pay Harry a visit. She's a bit confused at the moment, what with Fred and all that." She sniffed and rand a hand over her red eyes. "Well, she is of the opinion that we should leave him alone so he can get better", she rolled her eyes. "As if that would work." She kissed Harry on the forehead, waved Hermione goodbye and disappeared quickly from the ICU.

Hermione snorted. _Some girlfriend! Making sure he's still alive, talks about undying love and disappears in the next moment, because she has better things to do that to sit by the bed of a sick person lying in a coma._ She smiled sadly at Harry and gently squeezed his hand, which she held in hers. "I'll stay here, Harry. I'll be right here when you wake up. I promise you that."

*~*HP*~*

Throughout the week, many people came by to see how the 'boy-who-lived-and-conquered' was doing. Throngs of reporters cavorted in front of the hospital room to which Harry had been taken after two nights in intensive care. Kingsley Shacklebolt had ensured that two Aurors were positioned in front of the door leading to Harry's room. Their job was to make sure that no uninvited guests managed to get into the room and get a glimpse of the still unconscious saviour of the wizarding world. The only ones who were allowed to see him were the Weasleys, school friends like Neville Longbottom or Seamus Finnigan and people of the Order, as well as teachers of Hogwarts. All of them had brought flowers and chocolate on their first visit, hoping against hope that Harry could wake up at any moment, which had resulted in the healers being forced to transfer all of the flower arrangements and packages of chocolate from the sickroom, as there had been no free surface left, where the healers could have possibly put their medicines and potions on to.

Since Harry's surgery three weeks ago, Hermione had not once left his bedside or let go of his hand, unless one considered one-minute bathroom breaks as leaving him. After the healers had tried in vain to convince her of a short trip to the cafeteria to get something to eat and drink, they changed over to bringing her food to Harry's bedside as Hermione wouldn't budge. One could believe she lived in this room.

Sleeping she did very little and once she did actually manage to fall and stay asleep for more than thirty minutes at a time without a nightmare to rip her brutally into awareness, screaming and crying, she lay with her head on Harry's mattress, his hand still held firmly in hers.

"Hermione, dear. Please come to the cafeteria with me", said Molly Weasley, who had tried to get her to move for the last couple of hours. "It does you no good to stay seated in one spot, barely moving at all and hardly eating anything."

"I eat enough", Hermione muttered in response. She didn't have the slightest interest in leaving this room, which was now as familiar to her as her parents' home near London.

"Please", Mrs Weasley put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "It will do you good to see something else than this room and I don't think that Harry would want you to stop living. Look, it doesn't have to be for long, but please come to the cafeteria with me."

"And what if he wakes up?" Hermione quickly wiped one hand over her eyes to prevent Molly from seeing the tears gathering in her brown eyes. "I promised him I'll be there when he wakes up."

"I'm sure the healers will let us know immediately when something is happening. We'll tell them where to find us. Nothing will happen to him, dear", she added tenderly as she heard a sniffle coming from Hermione's direction. It broke her heart to see the girl she considered her second daughter suffer that much. Every time she paid a visit to her unofficially adopted son, Hermione sat by his bed, holding his hand and whispering things to him – the events of the day, who had already been visiting, and how much she hoped that he would finally wake up. The tears she shed had become less, but they were still there. Just like now.

"Alright", Hermione sniffled and took a deep breath. She looked at Harry's pale face and gave him a light kiss on his hand. "I'll be right back. I'm just going to the cafeteria to stretch my legs for a bit. I'll be back before you wake up." She smiled sadly at her best friend and stood up a little wobbly from the hard old wooden chair she had hardly ever left in the last three weeks.

"Okay", she said, smiling at Mrs Weasley. "Let's go."

*~*HP*~*

"Has Ron said anything?" Hermione picked up her fork and pronged a noodle. They sat in the crowded cafeteria of the hospital and tried to ignore the reporters standing at the entrance of the cafeteria, calling out to ask them questions about Harry's well-being.

Molly sighed and took a sip of her tea. "You know Ronald. He says things he doesn't mean. But he did ask how Harry was. And you."

Hermione laughed contemptuously and maltreated her turkey cutlet with a little too much violence. "That's the least he can do! Harry's been in a coma for three weeks now and that idiot of a best friend doesn't think it necessary to stop by and see for himself how Harry's doing. Honestly, sometimes I don't know why I'm dating such an ass at all", she blurted out angrily and promptly blushed bright red when she realized who was sitting across from her. "Oh, Mrs Weasley, I'm sorry, I –"

"It's quite all right, my dear", Mrs Weasley smiled at her over the edge of her tea cup. "Don't worry, I'm of the same opinion. I don't understand why he doesn't even put an effort in at least looking like he's interested in his well-being. Since he has known Ron, Harry has always been a good friend and now he is the one needing help and my son immediately lets him down and lets the information be relayed to him. At least that's what he does." Mrs Weasley shook her head. "I just don't understand it. Harry is his first and best friend and what does he behave like towards him? That's not what I've taught him, you can believe me."

"Ron can be a little stubborn", Hermione muttered, thinking of all the situations where Ron had disagreed with her and had unintentionally hurt her by saying or doing something mean. All these situations had ended with her sitting on her bed or in an abandoned classroom and crying her eyes out.

"And that's put nicely", Mrs Weasley glared at her piece of cheesecake. "So he hasn't got in touch with you, I suppose?"

"No", Hermione sighed and rubbed her exhausted eyes. "I don't know whether that is because I'm not home and his letters didn't get through or –"

"Oh, believe me, if he had sent a letter, it would have arrived. St. Mungo's has a mail department, like any magical institute."

"Then he hasn't contacted me", Hermione said soberly. "I think he is jealous. That I'm with Harry and not with him, I mean."

Mrs Weasley looked up in surprise.

"Three weeks ago, shortly after Voldemort had been defeated, I have asked Ron whether he had seen Harry and he has responded very funny and aggressive. I mean, sure, we all mourned… Fred", she said shyly and saw Mrs Weasley smiling sadly, but I don't think that has been the main reason. Harry has lost people who meant something to him nearly every single year his whole life long and he had never been aggressive towards us. Sure, after Cedric's death in fifth year he has been different and more aggressive but that hasn't been his fault but Voldemort's."

"It could very well be that my son is jealous. It has never been one of his strengths, being able to control negative feelings", she laughed and squeezed Hermione's hand.

"I say this quite reluctantly now, because as a mother I should support my children", she winked at the younger with sitting across from her, "but I am also a woman and have my own opinion. I want to tell you if you don't feel comfortable being in a relationship with my Ronald or if you cannot or don't want to cope with his mood swings, I'd understand it if you broke it off. It sure must be weird to hear me talking like that", she added, as Hermione, astonished that the older woman had just practically told her to feel free to break up with her son, opened her mouth to reply, "but I think it's completely wrong and unacceptable how he treats you and Harry."

Hermione looked down at her plate and smiled slightly. "That's good to know." After a few seconds her eyes searched those of the kind witch opposite her. "Thank you, Mrs Weasley."

"No matter, dear", she responded with a smile and squeezed her hand again. "Besides, I think that you and Harry would make a better couple anyway."

"_What_?" Hermione choked on a noodle and blushed furiously. Gently, Molly slapped her on the back and watched in amusement as Hermione came back to breathing normally and staring at her as if she had gone mad. "What? What did you just say?"

"Oh, now don't act as if you haven't already thought about that!" Hermione looked at her taken aback. Her? Thinking about it? About Harry and… She gulped. Where had _that _come from all of a sudden?

Mrs Weasley seemed to have read her thoughts, because she smiled at her lovingly. "It is obvious, Hermione."

"Excuse me? What?" Hermione's eyes widened even further.

"The way you look at him, the way you never leave his side, not being with your boyfriend, even though he's not exactly striving after your attention", she added contritely, watching her son's girlfriend who stared at her with eyes twice their normal size, cheeks bright red and mouth hanging wide open. Molly giggled. "I see, you need more time to see the signs for what they are yourself", with a wink, she stood up, lifted the tray with the plate and cup on it and looked down at the still petrified Hermione. "Are you coming, my dear? Harry's waiting."

"W-What? Oh, um, yeah, I'm coming", she shook her head to dispel all of her confused, fragmented thoughts and stood up. Now was not the time to sit around in the cafeteria, confused and not knowing what to do, a few floors above the room in which her unconscious best friend was lying. She blinked. _Best _friend? Was that really what she wanted?

*~*HP*~*

_There was dead silence. The only thing that could be heard were the agonized voices of those who had been injured and were now being carried into the Great Hall. Hermione helped Neville to get up from the ground, without further straining his bloody ankle when she saw movement at the edge of the Forbidden Forest._

"_What's wrong, Hermione?" Neville winced as he tried to stand on his right foot._

"_Do you see that? At the edge of the forest", she asked pointing in said direction just as black figures appeared from the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. It was impossible to say how many were moving towards them, because with their dark cloaks, it looked as if they would melt together with the surrounding darkness. She could barely make out any contours. As the first person reached the meadow they were standing on, they were lightened by the first rays of sunlight. She gasped. Voldemort. Clothed in a long, black cloak, white snake face distorted to a grinning grimace and next to him his huge snake. She glided through sooty, dead grass, where spells and curses had burned it. Behind them, dozens of witches and wizards followed. Death Eaters. The white masks in their hands at their sides. But what tore her attention from them was Hagrid. The gamekeeper had ropes and chains wrapped around his neck and limbs, as if he were a dragon that had to be restrained, or a disobedient dog. His face was dirty and encrusted with dried blood. And in his arms he held…_

"_HARRY!" Hermione spun around just fast enough to see Mr Weasley looping his arm around Ginny's waist and pulling her backwards._

_The grin on Voldemort's face became even wider. "Harry Potter… is dead!"_

"NO!" With a scream, she sat up and regained her balance just in time to prevent the wooden chair she was still seated on from toppling over and taking her along. Panting, she sat next to Harry's bed and tried to calm down. "Just a dream. It was just a dream", she murmured to herself and closed her eyes. "Just a dream. It's over. Harry's alive." She looked up and stared at the motionless body of her best friend in the bed in front of her, taking comfort in the soft rising and falling of his chest. "He's alive", she whispered and smiled weakly. The clock on the bedside table told her it was three in the morning. She had slept a total of two hours.

Wearily, she rubbed her eyes. _Two hours._

The day before, after leaving the cafeteria with Mrs Weasley and pushing through the masses of press people, she had immediately taken off to hurry to Harry's room, only to find out that now as no one had sat at his bedside to make sure that absolutely no one could get through to the saviour of the wizarding world, the two Aurors had had serious problems to hold the reporters at bay, who had tried to get a first look and an exclusive picture of the comatose war hero. As Hermione had rushed toward the throng of reporters, she had only managed by force to squeeze through the press people, to open the door and slamming it shut as soon as she had entered the room, even before the reporters could have done more than scream "Hermione Granger! That's Hermione Granger!"

Now she was sitting next to Harry and wished for nothing more than to finally gaze into his bright green eyes, to admire his smile and to have the feeling as if he squeezed her hand very lightly. Hermione froze. _Wait a second._

Aghast, she stared at Harry's hand, which she held firmly in hers, like always, and held her breath. There it was again! At first one finger, then two, and finally all five closed around her hand and squeezed ever so slightly.

Hermione stifled a shriek and whirled around to press the emergency button that would summon a healer.

"Please! Come quickly! Harry's waking up! He's waking up!"

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A/N: Ah, I love cliffies :D Please leave a comment :)


	3. In the Eye of the Hurricane

Ah, here it is - the third chapter. I hope you like it and once again: sorry for any mistakes ;)

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In the Eye of the Hurricane

"Harry? Harry, can you hear me?" Hermione's whole body was tense, muscles rigid as she sat on the edge of the old wooden chair and stared at her best friend, who was still lying before her, pale and motionless. _But he has just moved! I've definitely noticed! It's impossible that I've imagined that! _Hermione's mind was racing. It was now about a month ago that she had fought for a better future at Harry's and Ron's side and had seen Harry on his feet and conscious. But he had just squeezed her hand!

"Miss?"

Hermione jumped as two healers, a man and a woman, came rushing into the room, both heavily laden with potions, some of which she identified as energy potions and nutrients solutions. She knew most of them, but not every single one.

"You said he's waking up? What happened?"

"Um, yes! I was sitting here and like always held onto his hand and suddenly he moved a finger, than another one, and then he squeezed my hand! Not tightly, mind you, but he did squeeze it!"

"Please step aside, Ms Granger", said the serious looking healer as his colleague at Harry's right side began to mutter diagnosis spells and let her wand wander over Harry's body in complicated twirls. He put the potions which he was still holding onto down, leaned over the bed-head of Harry's bed and lifted an eyelid to direct the _Lumos _into his bright green eye. Hermione stood in the corner of the room, trembling and watched in silence as the healers did their job. Could it really be happening? Could she dare to hope?

"'Mione?" Hermione jumped when she heard his low, raspy voice and hurried precipitately to the bed. "Harry? I'm here. I'm right here with you."

The healer, who had been leaning over Harry, drew back with a soft smile on his lips and turned to Hermione. "I think, we'll give you two a little privacy. If anything should happen, if he gets sick or disorientated, please call us immediately."

"I will, Sir. Thank you."

The moment the healers had left the room, Hermione turned and beamed when she saw that Harry's eyes were slightly open and examining her tired. He was still pale, although not quite as sickly looking like a couple of days before, but he didn't exactly look healthy either.

"Hey", Hermione smiled at him tenderly and sat down on the chair next to his bed. "How are you?"

Harry grumbled and closed his eyes. He was very weak. "As if I've been rum over and roasted by a horde of angry dragons", he whispered. A small smile graced his lips as he looked at her again. "And you? You look exhausted."

"You are one to talk", she laughed. "You are the one lying in a hospital bed."

Harry smiled at her sheepishly. "That doesn't mean that I'm not worried." Hermione rolled her eyes, unable to suppress a smile. _Typical. He's in hospital after he almost died and he's the one who's worried about me._

"I'm fine, now that you're awake", she looked down at their intertwined hands and felt her eyes sting. Quickly she ran her other hand over her face and laughed sheepishly. She hoped Harry would be too exhausted to see the tears that slowly but surely began to gather in her eyes. She smiled at him and was horrified to see his eyebrows furrow as his eyes closed. "Are you in pain?"

"What?" Harry blinked and shook his head. _Oh, I shouldn't do that_, he thought as the ceiling started to spin. "Uh, no", he said, closing his eyes again as he tried to fight the urge to vomit. "Why are you crying?" He whispered so quietly that Hermione had to lean in in order to understand the uttered words.

She immediately turned bright red. "I'm not crying", she said, hastily wiping over her eyes.

Harry smiled tentatively. "If you say so. Since when am I already in here anyway?"

Hermione swallowed. "For about a month."

"For… a month?" Harry looked over to her, horrified, but had to fight against his heavy eyelids. "I was unconscious for a month?"

"You were in a coma", Hermione whispered in reply and looked down at their hands again that were still resting on Harry's bedspread. "I never left your side, though." She blinked through her lashes over at Harry, who looked at her with an expression on his face, she couldn't interpret.

"You didn't need to do that."

"I know that, but I wanted to."

Smiling, she watched as Harry struggled with his heavy eyelids and muttered something she didn't understand anymore. In the next moment he was asleep.

"Get some rest, Harry. And don't worry", she whispered to the sleeping boy in front of her and kissed him gently on the forehead. "I'll stay with you."

*~*HP*~*

A week later, Harry was released from the hospital. He was still weak, but was able to walk and stay conscious for more than four hours at a time. The healers gave him a lot of potions which Hermione immediately put into a small travel bag.

"And this one you are to take three times a day", said the healer and pushed a bluish potion into his hands. "A teaspoon should be enough. If you should be particularly tired, you can take four doses, but no more. This potion is addictive, so I want you to get examined again in two weeks. It doesn't matter whether the potion still works or nor. Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am", Harry nodded and took the last potion, which Hermione immediately touched with the tip of her wand to jot down the instructions onto the bottle and stowed it in the travel bag with the other bottles of medicine.

"Very well. That's everything. Get well soon, Mr Potter." The healer smiled at him, shook his and Hermione's hand and left the two alone.

"Shall we?" Hermione picked the bag up and pointed to the door through which the healer had just disappeared a few seconds ago.

Harry nodded, took the bag with the potions out of Hermione's hand, ignored her protest and made to leave the room. He had scarcely opened the door when they were greeted with flashes of light and excited shouts.

"Mr Potter, how are you?"

"Is it true that you've been in a coma?"

"Mr Potter, please smile into the camera!"

"Over here, Mr Potter!"

Hermione groaned, took Harry's hand and dragged him through the masses of reporters who had engrossed the corridor leading to Harry's room, armed with cameras, quills and parchment.

"Mr Potter!"

"An interview, Mr Potter. Over here!"

Crouching, they ran through the crowd and reached the lobby at precisely that very moment as two Aurors who had been positioned in front of Harry's room rushed in their direction and did their best to repel the reporters from them.

Harry and Hermione ran through the packed lobby of the hospital, away from surprised and excited shouts like "Mum! There's Harry Potter!" - "What? Where?" - "Over there!" - "Of my God, it's him!" – "Harry!"

They skidded to a halt in front of one of the countless fire places. Hermione threw some Floo Powder into the flames, which immediately turned a blazing green, pushed Harry into the fire yelling "Grimmauld Place Number 12", jumped in after him and disappeared in the flames, leaving enthusiastic, screaming people behind.

"For Merlin's sake", Hermione cried out as she marched up and down in Sirius' old kitchen. "Can't those people pull themselves together for once? You've just woken up from a coma a week ago and they already try to rip your clothes off your body and overwhelm you with questions. No sense of decency! I'm sure they know you're not totally healthy yet. Those ignorant sods!"

Harry smiled as he watched Hermione having a minor temper tantrum. He himself was sitting on a chair at the kitchen table and leaned back, exhausted. All that stress with the reporters had exhausted him beyond believe. Hard to believe that the last time he'd been conscious he had been awake for over twenty-four hours at a time to fight for his life and for the life of everyone else, without feeling the fatigue that threatened to overwhelm him now. He let his head sink onto the table, closed his eyes for a moment, listening to Hermione's angry monologue, and smiled as he felt her warm hand on his shoulder. Harry blinked and turned to look at her, but the seat next to him was empty. Puzzled, he looked to his right and saw Hermione who was still angrily running to and fro in front of the table and was busy bad-mouthing random reporters. She was too far away to touch him. She had not even noticed that he was practically lying on the table right now. Flabbergasted, Harry turned to his left again and looked at the chair next to him. But it was empty. He turned around to see if someone was standing behind him, but saw nothing but the bare, slightly blotchy wall. The wallpaper was peeling off at the top and one could clearly tell that there had been a water-damage several years prior. He could have sworn that there had just been a hand on his shoulder…

"Harry?" Hermione's flushed faced appeared in front of him. Harry jumped. "Are you okay?"

Blinking and slightly put off, Harry once again looked at the empty chair next to him. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I thought I just… Ah, it's nothing. I'm just tired, that's all." _Strange. _Harry shook his head and turned back to Hermione, who was watching him with a smile.

"Maybe you should rest for an hour or so. Today was indeed quite exhausting. What with all those rude reporters who weren't taught proper manners!" She glared at the shelf, in which the old china and silverware was stowed, as if it had just insulted her personally.

Harry tried to stifle a yawn and stood up, swaying. "I think that's what I'll do", he said and slowly mad his way towards the stairs.

"I'll wake you in an hour, so you can take your potion, okay?"

"Yeah, do that", Harry muttered and walked up the stairs.

*~*HP*~*

During the following night he did not sleep well. All the events of the past days were buzzing in his head and occupied his exhausted mind, making it impossible for him to relax enough to fall asleep. The final battle, which was still a fresh and very detailed memory, more so for him tough than for others, constituted a major part of his dreams…

The next morning, Harry sat exhausted and extremely overtired at the table in the musty kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hand, and tried desperately to fully wake up. He hadn't been able to get much sleep the night before. Again and again scenes had appeared before his mind's eye, had he tried to close his eyes for even a minute. Scenes he would rather forget. Screaming friends, dead classmates, the burning and destroyed castle… Harry shook his head to dispel the images out of his head. If he had to mull over it in every sleeping minute, he didn't want to do so when he was awake. Sighing, he sank into the hard chair and rubbed his eyes. He was so _tired._

The hissing of the fireplace announced Hermione's arrival. "Good morning, Harry! How are you today? For Merlin's sake, look at you!" She quickly ran over to her best friend, who sat slumped at the kitchen table with a coffee mug and knelt next to his chair to be able to look him in the eye. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was more dishevelled that normal. He smiled at his friend tired and sat up.

"I'm fine, Hermione. I'm just a little tired."

"Yes, I can see that", murmured the brown-haired witch and put a hand on his shoulder. Harry flinched slightly.

"Did you sleep at all last night?"

Harry smiled at her sheepishly. "Of course not", Hermione sighed and shook her head. "Do you want me to get you some Dreamless Sleep Portions? I wanted to go to Diagon Alley today anyway. I could stop by at the pharmacy."

Harry smiled at her gratefully. "That would be nice of you, 'Mione. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to go out in public without being overrun…"

"I'd say, you're probably right about that." She strolled over to the shelf, took out a cup and filled it with the black caffeinated liquid. "Did you have a nightmare?" She asked tenderly as she sat down opposite him.

"The usual", Harry looked down at his hands tightly holding onto the cup.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really, no", he looked at her shyly. Hermione eyes him with a worried expression. "Really Hermione, I'm fine. I'm sure I'll get more sleep once I take the potion, so no need to worry." He smiled at her encouragingly. It felt more like a grimace than a smile, but Hermione seemed to drop the topic despite everything. With a sigh, she took a sip of coffee and leaned back in her chair, making herself comfortable.

"How's Ron by the way?" Harry had not seen him for ages and judging from stories Mrs Weasley or Hermione had told him, he had not come to see him while he had still been in hospital, unconscious.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, he's alright. I really don't know what his problem is. Almost every day he asks me how you're doing, but to come for a visit and ask you personally… With that he obviously has a problem. Merlin knows what's wrong with him."

Harry sighed. He had never understood Ron. Actually, one should think male brains worked somewhat alike, but Ron seemed to be an exception. _Or I_, Harry thought sourly, glaring daggers at his coffee mug. He just didn't understand him. It had all started with situations such as the one during fourth year. It had been clear to him that Ron felt something for Hermione, but he did everything humanly possible to make her cry. Jealousy or not, he had never managed to utter an apology. And then the Triwizard Tournament – Harry thought, ever since he had known Ron, he had made it clear that he hated his fame and wanted nothing more than to live a normal life with a real family and still… No sooner had Harry's name been drawn from the Goblet of Fire, Ron had wanted no truck with him, although precisely at this time he had needed all the help and support he could possibly get. Hermione had always been at his side, no matter what had happened to him, but Ron? Harry snorted contemptuously. As far as Ron knew, he was still in a coma, or perhaps even dead. He wouldn't have noticed. He made others to look after his supposed best friend in his stead who had been in a coma for a moth and was now forced to live with the trauma of the war. And he didn't even manage to come over to say hello. _Some friend._

"Don't worry about Ron", Hermione stood up and brought her cup to the sink. "He's an idiot. Maybe we're lucky and he'll realize it someday."

Harry laughed joyless. "You don't believe that yourself, do you?"

Hermione sighed. "No, I don't. But one can hope", she winked at him and walked over to the fireplace to throw in some Floo Powder. "I'll be back in a few to bring you the potions", he stepped into the emerald fire, in which she disappeared mere seconds later.

Harry shook his head and stood up. When had everything become so damn complicated? And above all, what did Hermione see in Ron? He was an idiot, she had just said so herself. She had been the one who had been sitting at his bedside, waiting for him to wake up. She was the one who had always been on his side and turned against Ron, had it been necessary. And she was the one who, though he was now out of the hospital, still came over every day and spent most of her spare time with him. With _him _and not with Ron. Harry paused. Could it be that… No. No, it couldn't be. Hermione would never prefer him to Ron. If that would be the case, she would have done so during their school days. Ron had always offended and hurt her; he had tried to back her up and support her. But… Harry put his cup down next to the sink and ran a hand through his hair. She had chosen him over Ron in their school days, hadn't she? She had been the only one who had been at his side without thinking about it twice and had made no bones about restraining Ron, if necessary. Harry took a deep breath. Maybe Ron knew. Perhaps he had come to the same conclusion, just earlier in time.

Harry smiled slightly, turned to the fireplace and sat down in the chair in front of the way too red fire. Maybe Ron's jealousy was justified. Maybe Harry finally had the chance to be happy? For years he had tried to put his feelings for Hermione into the drawer labelled 'emotions towards friends' or 'family'. When he had failed miserably with this method, he had tried hard to suppress them all together. But wasn't it the time that he had the right to be happy after everything he had done for the wizarding world and for her? Just before he closed his eyes, he saw the cold marble mantelpiece shimmering. _Weird_, he thought as he entered the world of dreams.

*~*HP*~*

_He walked slowly through the forest. He had wrapped his Invisibility Cloak firmly around him, his wand weld tightly in his right hand. Everything was quiet. The sobs and cries that shook the castle were becoming quieter and more insignificant with every step that led him away from his first ever home. He had a mission and he would fulfil it. He could not mourn his wishes and dreams; that would only rob him of his determination. He had lost so much in his life and because of him, Voldemort had found victims in the ranks of his friends and had torn their families apart. _Because of him_. He would not allow the people who meant something to him to suffer because of him. He knew what it felt like to lose everyone who belonged to the family; he knew what it felt like to be alone. He looked down and examined the small black stone which he held in his left hand. His whole family was dead, and he would die soon as well. Soon, he would see them again, but going all the way alone was too much for him to do by himself._

_Slowly he turned the Resurrection Stone three times in his hand and focused on the people he would see again soon. The forest around him was silent. The only thing he could hear was a branch breaking when someone stepped on it and some leaves being pushed to the side as someone made their way up to him. He looked up and gazed into the bright green eyes of his mother. Her red hair was wafting in a soft breeze that only she could feel. She smiled at him and put a warm hand on his shoulder. When he looked over his mother's shoulder, he saw the shimmering figure of his father coming towards him, a smile lit up his face and pride seemed to make his eyes brighter than normal._

"_We are so proud of you", he whispered and came to a stop in front of him and next to his mum. "So unbelievably proud."_

"_I didn't want you to die for me. None of you." A tear ran down his scratched cheek. "I didn't want that."_

"_We know that, honey", whispered his mother, and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "We don't blame you for what has happened to us." Her silhouette shimmered slightly as if she consisted of waves crushing against rocks._

_James smiled at him and nodded slightly. Behind him, Harry could now see two more figures. They were more see-through and less colourful than his parents, but they both smiled at him encouragingly._

"_Sirius", he whispered, and began to tremble. "Remus."_

"_Hello, Harry", Sirius looked younger than he remembered. The haunted look in his eyes was gone, and he seemed happy. Remus also looked different. He, too, looked younger and healthier._

_Harry sniffed and blinked rapidly to get the tears out of his eyes, causing everything to blur. He tried to smile but didn't really succeed._

_Slowly the forest changed around him and the colours and contours became indistinct, as if he was surrounded be a variety of different coloured patterns. Sirius and Remus faded, until they eventually disappeared completely._

"_No! Remus! Sirius! Stay with me! I don't know what to do!"_

_Lily took his hand in hers. James put an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. Both looked more solid than before._

"_You have to listen to us now, sweetheart. It's important." His mother looked at him seriously, turned to James, but continued to speak to him. "We need your help."_

"_My help?" Confused, Harry looked from his father over to his mother and back again. Both were lost in each other's eyes and didn't seem to notice him. "Mum?"_

_The colours around him whirled faster and faster, as if they stood in the eye of a colourful hurricane. He felt sick._

_Lily Potter put a hand on James' cheek and smiled at him. "We can do it! I'll keep waiting", with one last grateful smile to her, James turned to Harry, looked him into his eyes and disappeared._

"_Dad? DAD!"_

"_Your father is where I have also been many years before", she whispered and green eyes looked into green eyes. "It happened sixteen years ago, and since then we're trapped."_

"_Trapped? What are you talking about?"_

"_You're going to help us, aren't you, darling? Please!"_

"_I don't even know what you're talking about!"_

"_Please, Harry", her voice echoed off the swirling walls around them as the red of her hair began to mix in with the green and brown of the walls. "Please", her voice trailed off, until she too eventually disappeared and Harry slid off the chair onto the cold floor with a loud gasp._

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A/N: What does all of this mean? Why do James and Lily want Harry to help them? And with what? So many questions... Feel free to leave a comment :D I'd like to hear what you think of the story so far :)


	4. Things of the Past

A/N: Finally! The fourth chapter. This one is rather emotional. Enjoy :)

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Things of the Past

Over the next few weeks, Harry had the constant feeling of being watched. When he went into the kitchen, he saw a shadow moving behind the door. He whirled around, just to stare at a blank and completely normally lit wall. When he went to the library to find something to distract him, parts of the shelves seemed to be hidden behind some kind of magic. At least it looked like it, why else should the edges and covers of the books be blurred? The only room in which he felt comfortable was the bathroom, because here he didn't see any kind of strange glow, shadow, or whatever.

He hadn't slept properly last night – again. The potions Hermione had brought him three weeks ago were all consumed, and Harry didn't want to ask her again if she could get him more. He hadn't left the house for days and began to have the feeling of being paranoid. To see shadows without them being there, to see movements although he was alone, to see protection spells although he hadn't been the one to put them there… Would he end up like Mad-Eye Moody, who had eventually started to attack trash cans, because he had been absolutely positive about Death Eaters hiding in them and throwing garbage at him? That would be just sad. Harry sighed and threw his legs over the edge of the bed. He winced slightly as his bare feet touched the cold stone floor and tried to ignore the blurring wardrobe in the corner of the room. Maybe if he no longer took note of these incidents, they would disappear? He was sure that this only happened inside his head. The wardrobe didn't really move anyway, right? If he managed to convince himself of the fact that he was just imagining all these things, maybe his overenthusiastic fantasy would calm down eventually.

Yawning, he went to the kitchen to prepare himself a cup of tea and wait for Hermione's arrival. He strolled over to the sink, filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove. With a hot cup of tea and maybe some pancakes in his stomach the world would be alright again, he thought, taking a pan from one of the hooks over the stoves, when without further warning a cup flew out of the shelf behind him and shattered on the stone floor. Harry whirled around and stared at the mug, which was scattered all over the kitchen floor, covering it in tiny, rather sharp shards. _What the_… He carefully put the pan into the sink and walked slowly toward the cup, the broken pieces lying on the ground in front of him. How could this happen? Harry bent down and picked up the broken handle. Frowning, he looked around, but he was alone in the kitchen and as far as he knew in the whole house. Apart from him and Hermione, no one ever entered the house.

He jumped as the fire flared up and a red-haired girl stepped out of the flames.

"Ginny", Harry got up quickly from the ground, pulled out his wand, repaired the broken cup and placed it back into the closet whose glass doors had been shut since he had taken out the mug for his tea.

Confused, Harry shook his head and turned to his ex-girlfriend, who was watching him with an amused twinkle in her eyes.

"Did I scare you?" She slowly made her way over and stopped about a meter in front of him.

"What?" Harry blinked and tried to smile. "Oh, no. The cup just fell out of my hand. Nothing happened, really."

Ginny beamed at him, eyes sparkling, but didn't say anything.

"Um", feeling rather self-conscious, Harry ran his hand through his hair, eying Ginny, who continued to just stare at him, beaming. "I just wanted to make some tea and pancakes. Do you want some?"

He hurried over to the stove, where just in that moment the kettle began to make a very loud whistling sound.

"A tea would be nice", she said, sitting down at the table.

Harry went to the glass cabinet and reached for the doorknob. _Strange. The door wasn't open before, was it? _Frowning, he took a cup out of the cabinet, closed the door and put the tea bags in, followed by the boiling water.

"Thanks", Ginny smiled at him and took her cup. HE didn't miss the fact that she brushed her fingers over his more than needed.

"You're welcome." He sat down across from her and took a tentative sip of his hot tea.

When Ginny continued to remain silent – but kept glancing at him every so often – Harry decided to break the awkward silence. "So? What brings you here?"

"Do I need a reason to see how my boyfriend is doing?" Ginny winked at him and grinned into her teacup.

_Boyfriend?_

"Ginny, I thought I have made myself clear last year." Harry suppressed an annoyed sigh. That was the last thing he needed.

"Yes, you did, but I have hoped that, not that you're back again and healthy as can be, we could talk about it. Your reasoning has been that you just wanted to keep me safe and that you had this mission to deal with because Dumbledore trusted you to do so. But now that you're back and that you've completed this mysterious mission, I thought we could start over again." Ginny put her hand over Harry's, which was laying on the table surface next to his cup.

Harry took a deep breath and had to force himself to look her in the eye. "Ginny, I've told you that day why I've broken up with you. And nothing has changed that."

Ginny grinned widely and took his hand in between her own. "Then where's the problem?"

Carefully, Harry pulled his hand out of Ginny's clasp and instead clutched his teacup as if it was a lifeline, keeping him from drowning.

"You don't know what I've had to go through last year and I have –"

"But we can get through this together. I'm here with you!"

Harry sighed and looked up from his now empty cup. "No, we can't! Don't you get it? I have changed during the last year, Ginny! I had to do things that I never would have done under normal circumstances. I had to make decisions that no one wants to ever have to make." He looked down into the brown eyes of his first real girlfriend. "I can't do that, Gin. Really. I'm sorry."

Ginny blinked and was silent for a few minutes.

"So that's it?", her face getting redder by the second. "That's it? Just like that? I've waited for over a whole year for you, Harry. Do you think, I haven't made sacrifices myself? I've broken into Snape's office just to help you. I had to hide, as well as the other DA members, because the Death Eaters at Hogwarts have decided to hunt us down. We've tried to incite a revolution. _I _have tried to incite a revolution. I didn't want all that! I've been scared like crazy, Harry. Afraid that something would happen to my family, because I've written messages to the castle walls the monsters running the school didn't like and one of my brothers was on the run with you. And yet I have risked everything to be of any use for you!"

Harry put his face in his hands and groaned. "I've risked everything, Harry. Everything, so there could be a future for both of us. Put yourself in my place. You tell me at Dumbledore's funeral that you couldn't be with me because you wouldn't come back to Hogwarts for your seventh year, because Dumbledore trusted you with something important. And I? What was with me? Have you ever thought about how I could have possibly felt at that moment?"

"Of course, I have!" Enraged, Harry jumped up and started to pace in front of the table. "I have spent every free minute trying to find your name on the Marauder's Map and somehow trying to find a way to make sure you're safe. Every time the names of the missing and dead people were read on the radio, I was hoping not to hear your name among them. And every time he was in a bad mood, Ron made sure that I wouldn't forget that I was the reason you were in danger. Not only that you belong to a 'family of blood traitors', no, you're also the ex-girlfriend of the public enemy, the undesirable number one Harry Potter. The one that everyone had thought to be dead for weeks on end." Harry was silent for a moment, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Do you remember what you said to me after I've broken up with you?", he asked softly, watching her every move.

Ginny stared at him, speechless and with red cheeks.

"You said I would never be happy if I couldn't hunt him, find him and kill him. Do you see the error in that, Ginny? If you don't, then you have never known or even understood me. I hated it, do you understand that? I _hated _it! I didn't want to hunt him down. I didn't want to lead this whole war and above all of that, I didn't want to kill him! This prophecy has ruined my life, don't you see that? By the time I was a year old, my life was perfect! I had parents who loved me, uncles who gave me gifts and wanted to play with me and above all that I had freedom! I had things I can't even remember and have no idea how it felt to have those things. All I ever wanted was to be normal. A normal family with normal problems and a _normal son_! And what did I have? An uncle and an aunt who have treated me like a slave, who have never called me by my name, who have never hugged me or stood up for me when my oh so perfect cousin decided to beat me up again until I was nothing more than a piece of bruised meat. Until I was eleven years old, everything I thought to know about my parents has been that my father was supposed to be an alcoholic, my mother giving a damn about me and that both of them had died in a car accident, which my father had supposedly caused with too much alcohol in his system. Until my sixth birthday, I thought my name was '_freak_'! And you believe in all seriousness that I have voluntarily hunted Voldemort and waited for an opportunity to _assassinate _him once and for all? I am a murderer, Ginny! Voldemort or not, I have killed someone and I'm anything but proud of that. So don't tell me you know me or would understand me. That you can and will never be able to!"

Panting, Harry stood in front of the kitchen table, at which a deeply appalled Ginny sat who stared at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed. He hadn't noticed that his voice had become louder during his fit of rage, until he had finally been yelling. The silence that followed was deafening. Harry took a deep breath and wiped his hand over his face.

Ginny gulped. She didn't know what to say. All the things that Harry had just thrown at her had been terrible. How could she have spent so much time with him and yet know so little about him? Horrified, she stared at Harry. All the energy seemed to have drained from his body. He was completely exhausted as he dropped onto the chair across from her seat at the wooden table. He was right. She didn't know him at all.

"You're right", she whispered. Harry head jerked up.

"What?"

"You're right", she repeated, stood up, walked slowly around the table and sat down next to him. She took his hand and drew light circles on the back of it. This time he allowed it, which she was grateful for. "I'm sorry. All this time, I have had a wrong image in mind", she smiled at him through her tears. When had she started to cry? She didn't know. "I never really wanted it to be true. The Harry, who I remember was shy and gentle. He has hardly ever lost his temper and has always beamed when he's seen me. He was the best friend a girl could ask for, but he has hardly ever spoken about himself. Not I know why. If I'm honest, I've been afraid to ask you about your life."

Harry looked at her confused. "Yes", she chuckled and sniffed as a new flood of silent tears ran down her cheeks, leaving wet trails behind. "I know it sounds weird, but that's just how it has been at that time. I think deep down inside I have always known that you had a difficult life. Your fame must have been the reason which has obscured your past, the reason I didn't see it before. Your story always seemed so fantastic that, before I've met you, you were some kind of superhero in my mind." Ginny blushed even more and looked down at their intertwined hands. "But now I see that you are a different person", she smiled up at him. "The war has changed every single one of us, but mostly you. And I'm sorry."

She wiped her hand over her eyes and stood up slowly. "I will always love you, Harry."

"No", Harry stood up and embraced her. "No, the Harry you love no longer exists. He dies at that moment when Voldemort has hit me with the Killing Curse." He let go of her, still having his hands on her shoulders, and smiled at her sadly. "I'm sorry, Ginny. You deserve someone who can give you all the love you feel for him in return. You are a wonderful woman and I have no regrets. You'll find someone who is good enough for you eventually." He kissed her on the forehead. "But I'm not that guy", he whispered and let her go.

*~*HP*~*

In the evening, Harry was sitting on the couch in front of the fire place, a glass with firewhiskey in his hand, staring absorbed in thought into the flames. He was just thinking about his conversation with Ginny when Hermione's desperate voice could be heard, coming from the kitchen.

"Harry? Where are you?"

Harry stood up, put his whiskey glass on the side table next to the couch and hurried down the hall, down the stairs and into the kitchen, in the middle of which a completely dishevelled and sobbing Hermione stood with some suitcases.

"Hermione? What's wrong?" He walked over to her and hugged her tightly. She just sobbed even more and clung desperately onto Harry.

"I-I…" Hermione sobbed and buried her face in Harry's shirt. "Oh, Harry!"

"Shhh, everything's all right. It's all right. Take a deep breath, okay?" He patted her back awkwardly and felt her breathing slowly calm down. "First of all, let's sit down and then you'll tell me everything, okay?" He took her by the hand and let her up the stairs into the parlour, where he gently pushed her onto the couch and sat down next to her. Hermione sniffed and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"And now tell me calmly. What happened?"

He still held her hand in his and drew soothing circles on the back of her hand. Shuddering, Hermione took a deep breath and forced all the air out of her lungs. "I-I h-have brok-broken up w-with R-R-Ron", she whimpered and burst into tears again.

Harry wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap where she stayed, sobbing into his shoulder.

"W-We had an a-argument", she sniffled and snuggled closer to Harry. "I came home this afternoon after buying some potions from Diagon Alley. I wanted to bring you some Dreamless Sleep Potions, because I thought that your stock has to be used up soon. I've only given you potions for two weeks and since it's been three weeks already, I thought I'd get you some more. But then you didn't tell me you needed more, so I figured you've not taken them every night." She lifted her head and looked at Harry. "No, you have taken them every night", she murmured as she saw the dark circles under his eyes. "Why didn't you say something? I would have bought more for you", she said reproachfully, Ron was apparently completely forgotten.

"I don't want to shoo you from one place to the other because of my problems. But that's not important right now", he added hastily, as Hermione indignantly opened her mouth to reply. "What happened? Why did you end things with Ron?"

"Oh", she rubbed her eyes and rested her cheek against Harry's shoulder. When she spoke again, Harry felt her warm breath on his neck and immediately got goose bumps. "Uhm, where was I? Oh, right. I came home and he was sitting on the couch, watching TV and waited for me. When he heard me, he got up and started questioning me. Where I was, who I was with, what I've done… I mean, what's it to him? Well, I've told him anyway because I didn't want to have any move trouble with him than I already have. I've told you how irritated he always gets when I mention you, didn't I?" Harry nodded, she had, in fact. About two weeks ago she had come to Grimmauld Place, literally smouldering with rage and he had spent two hours to listen to her angry monologue. According to Hermione, Ron became increasingly aggressive and irritated, especially if one mentioned Harry. On that evening when she had found shelter in Harry's home, they had previously been over at the Burrow for one of the many Weasley gatherings Molly used to organize. She had been surprised when Mrs Weasley hugged her tightly, asking why Harry hadn't been with her. Hermione had assumed that since Ron obviously didn't want to talk to Harry – only Merlin knew why – Mrs Weasley had invited him personally. Molly, however, hadn't been aware of the obvious misunderstanding and had given Ron a scolding about Harry and Hermione being a part of the family, which resulted in Ron storming out of the kitchen, beet red and seething.

"Well, anyway, I told him I've been at Diagon Alley to go to the pharmacy and he walked over to me, grabbed me by the shoulders and started shaking me like I was a rattle. 'Why do you constantly go to the pharmacy? Is that the place where you meet up with Harry? Huh? Tell me the truth!'" She imitated Ron so well that Harry felt a shiver running down his spine. "That's exactly how I won't allow anyone to treat me! Seriously, Harry. Who does that idiot think he is? And then I've spoken my mind. Finally! I've told him it wasn't his business, where I was with whom and when. We are, after all, not married and I wouldn't want to anyways, the way he treats me. And then he landed his hand in my face", she added, new tears running down her cheeks.

"He did _what_?" Harry stared at her in shock. How dare he beat Hermione?

"Yeah. I don't recognize him anymore! That's just not Ron! Anyway, I then went into our bedroom, packed my bags and came here." Hermione sniffed and wrapped her arms around Harry's neck. "Oh, Harry" What should I do? The apartment belongs to both of us and I won't ever go back there again! I just can't!"

"You'll never go there again! You can bet your life on that. You'll stay here. Just chose a room upstairs and make yourself comfortable. You can stay as long as you want. And in the meantime, I'll have a go at that blithering idiot!"

"No!" Hermione jumped from Harry's lap and held him by the shoulders. "Please don't! No matter what Ron did, please don't do that. Please stay here. I don't want to be alone." Hermione sobbed and clung desperately to Harry's shoulders, without ever taking her eyes off his bright green ones. "Please", she whispered.

Harry looked at her and all the anger he had felt just a second ago deflagrated without warning. How could he ever refuse a request of this woman? How could anyone ever do something like what Ron did to this beautiful, wonderful creature? He sighed, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace, gently rubbing her back and just holding onto her as she began to cry again. Sobs racked her small body, causing it to tremble violently. "Shhh, it's alright. I'll stay here. Everything will be fine, Hermione. I promise."

*~*HP*~*

_He ran along a dark road. The night was freezing cold and the wind whipped over his face, seemingly pushing tiny razor sharp needles into his skin. All around the trees groaned from the force of the storm and shook threateningly. Before him, at the end of the paved road, smoke rose into the air and a green skull with a snake slithering through its mouth put everything into eerily green light. The image brightened the house underneath._

_Panting, he pushed open the garden gate. The front door was torn off its hinges, plastering of the walls and gables was scattered all over the floor. He rushed into the house at the exact same moment when he heard a loud bang from above, causing the ceiling in front of him to collapse. He threw himself to the ground to avoid being hit by ceiling parts. When he looked up he saw nothing but smoke that swirled throughout the corridor. Coughing, he crawled forward toward the stairs and came across something soft. His eyes widened in shock. Before him was James Potter's dead body, eyes wide with horror and his mouth twisted in a silent scream. Blood trickled from his temple, to his ear, over his neck to drop onto the floor, making low, barely audible dripping noises as the drops hit the filthy ground beneath him._

_Carefully, he felt his way and hauled up a beam off James, which had broken out of the ceiling during the explosion. Panting, he sat down next to the dead wizard and wiped the blood from his face._

_He desperately looked around. Help would come soon, that he knew. One would find his parents' bodies and tell the legend of 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' all over the world. But he just couldn't leave them behind. Not like that. Trembling with fear and exhaustion, he looked back down at his dead father, whose lifeless eyes were now fixed on him._

"_Harry!"_

_Startled, he stepped back and hit a beam that was still stuck half way in the ceiling, causing it to creak threateningly to his touch. His eyes reached out to him and his bluish mouth twisted into a smile. It looked grotesque._

"_Harry! Help us, my son!"_

_From above he heard a groan and whirled around. At the top of the stairs stood a rickety figure. The hair dishevelled and covered in dust, the hand stretched out in his direction. He couldn't see the face._

"_Harry", the person faltered and stumbled against the wall, which she immediately used to support herself. "Look at me! You have to see me, sweetheart!"_

"_Help us", croaked James' dead body a few feet in front of him. His leg twitched. "Help us!"_

"_Harry."_

"NO!" His eyes darted wildly around the room. Everything was dark. No dust, no fog, no blood, no undead. Panting, he ran his hands over his face and tried to calm down. It had only been a dream. Just a dream.

Rumbling, the door to his room was pushed open and a person with extremely dishevelled hair rushed into the room. Behind her, the hallway light brought out her silhouette perfectly.

Harry recoiled in horror, lost his balance and fell backward out of his bed.

"Harry!" Hermione rushed around the bed and knelt down next to her best friend, who was staring at her with a mixture of horror, fear and excessive relief and tried to get his breathing under control. "Harry, what's wrong? It's all right", she muttered hastily, as he jerked violently at her touch. "Shhh, it's fine. It's me, Harry – Hermione. You'll be fine. You are safe here. Shhh, everything's okay", she whispered as she gently wrapped her arms around her distraught friend started to rock him back and forth. When his breathing calmed down, she loosened her grip and looked into his blood-shot, tear-filled eyes. "What happened?"

Harry took a deep breath to calm himself. "I'm going insane, Hermione", he whispered, his eyes darted frantically around the room. He flinched, as his bedside lamp began to blur. _It's back. _"I think, I'm going insane!"

* * *

A/N: Ah, poor Harry :(

I hope you liked it! Leave me a comment and tell me what you think of this chapter or the story as a whole. I look forward to reading them and am grateful for every single one of you reviewing. I'm still trying to get better, so I really appreciate your opinion :)


	5. Interlude

A/N: Ahh, the fifth chapter :D

It took me a while to get this translated because first of all, this chapter is fifteen to sixteen pages long and second of all, I have to study quite a lot as my exams have to be written in the following weeks. And I really shouldn't listen to the HP soundtrack (especially songs like 'In Noctem' or 'Harry in Winter') because I teared up quite a few times while translating this xD Okay, this chapter is longer than any chapter before, so enjoy reading!

Once again: Sorry for any mistakes. This chapter contains quite a lot of sayings which I tried to translate into the English version. I hope, I succeeded. If I didn't, I'm sorry.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Interlude**

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

He had imagined death somewhat differently. He had always believed that if he were to be assassinated, this would involve unspeakable pain. But when Voldemort's curse hit him in the chest, he did not feel any pain. It was more like the feeling you had when you fainted from exhaustion on a warm summer day. The spot where the curse had hit him was slightly warm when his body had been enveloped by green light. Was that the case anyway? He had felt the warmth all over his body, as the darkness had swallowed him.

The next thing he could remember was the cold. All heat and energy had been sucked out of him, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell. He blinked and tried to ignore the cold. He was cold, but he didn't shiver. He had the feeling that his muscles were about to contract to channel some much needed warmth into his cold body, but his muscles didn't react. If he thought about it more closely, he couldn't feel his muscles at all – let alone his body. Puzzled, he looked around. He stood at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the first floor. The front door was lying on the ground a few feet in front of him. Leaves were blown into the hallway. James blinked. As he turned, he saw something lying at his feet. He looked at the figure more closely and adrenaline shot through his veins. He looked himself in the wide-open and yet determined-looking, dead eyes, staring at the ceiling above him, without seeing it. And then he remembered. _Lily! Harry!_ He looked up and saw the tip of a dark cloak disappearing around the corner. He heard a door being blown off its hinges, followed by a horrified scream. _Lily!_

He raced up the stairs, down the hall to Harry's room, the door of which lay in the hallway, scattering the floor with pieces of painted wood. _No! Oh, Merlin, please! No!_

"Move aside, Mudblood!"

"Not Harry, please not Harry! I'll do anything! Please! Have mercy!"

"I have warned you." _NO!_

"_Avada Kedavra_!" _LILY!_

James whirled around the corner and saw the body of the most wonderful woman slump to the ground, remaining there, lying next to the crib, motionless. _No! Lily! Oh, please, this cannot be happening!_ Tears threatened to obscure his sight. His eyes prickled, but when he desperately wiped his hand over his eyes, they remained completely dry. He couldn't cry any longer. With a sob he tore his eyes away from Lily, only to be confronted with the next catastrophe.

"You are supposed to be my downfall? Don't make me laugh!"

His son stood in his crib, staring at his mother, eyes blood-shot and wide open. Tears ran down his small red cheeks as he looked up at Voldemort, who studied him with little interest and a lot of contempt.

"A baby is supposed to be the demise of the most powerful wizard in the world? I know to avoid that risk."

Harry's eyes followed the want that was slowly and deliberately pointed on his forehead. _NO! Don't you dare, you monster! Not my son!_ James lunged forward and threw himself in front of Harry, who still eyed the strongest dark wizard of the last century defiantly, his head held high. From the corner of his eye he saw a silvery figure straightening as rushing up to him.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

*~*HP*~*

The roar of this engine, he would recognize out of a thousand. How could he not, having spent much of his summer holidays tinkering with his best friend and brother, or feeling it rumbling and rattling under his seat when he and Sirius had gone for a ride. But he didn't know whether to be relieved or horrified when he heard the well-known motorcycle screeching to a halt in the front yard, followed by a terrified scream.

"NO! No, please!"

James turned to Lily. They both knelt on the floor in front of their son's ruined cot, trying desperately to calm him down. Harry was sitting in the rubble that used to be his bed and called for his mother over and over again, who sat trembling before him, desperately trying to make her son realize that she was still there. But Harry had eyes only for the motionless body of his "Mama" that lay next to the broken crib facing the door, dead, emerald green eyes wide and wet with tears. Harry's voice was getting more panicked when he realized his calls went unheard.

"Dadda? Dadda!" Harry began to sob and tried to crawl out of the wooden debris of his cot to his mother. "Mama!"

_Oh God, please!_ Lily sobbed and reached a hand out to her son, but it went right through him without any contact with Harry's warm, soft baby skin.

James closed his eyes. How was it possible that his life and that of his family turned into a huge disaster from one moment to the other? Half an hour ago they had been sitting in the living room laughing and playing with their son, and now?

He whirled around as a blood-curling scream echoed from the ground floor up to them. "JAMES! No. Oh, no! Please! JAMES!"

_Sirius_, James ran out of Harry's room, down the hall and skidded to a halt in front of his own body. Sirius was sitting on the floor, trembling, his dead body in his arms and begged him to answer him, to move.

"James! Please, don't do this to me! Please!"

When James knelt beside him and pit a hand on his shoulder, Harry began to cry loudly. Lily's desperate attempts to calm their son down could be heard clearly. Sirius' head jerked towards the stairs that led to Harry's nursery. Sniffling, he put James back on the ground and gently closed his eyes. Trembling, he got up and staggered up the stairs, closely followed by James' ghost. Harry had managed to pull himself halfway out of the ruins and had taken his mother's hand. The coldness of her skin scared him.

Sirius whirled around the corner and broke down upon taking in the scene in front of him. "Lily", he managed to sit up and started to crawl to mother and son. Harry looked up at his godfather, his little face tear-streaked, and began to cry again. "Pafoo! Mummy no! Where Dadda?"

Sirius wiped the tears from his eyes, which were immediately followed by new ones. He had to be strong now. He had to be strong for Harry! He still had enough time to deal with Wormtail and he would take the time. But not now. His godson needed him – his best friend's son.

"Harry", with a trembling hand he wiped gently over the soft, wet cheek of his godson and picked him up, pulling him away from his mother. Harry stretched himself desperately for Lily's body and cried horrified.

"Come on, Prongslet. Mummy and Daddy are in a better place now. Uncle Padfoot will take care of you, sweetheart", he sniffled and hugged Harry tightly.

*~*HP*~*

_That cannot really be happening_, Lily whispered as she watched Hagrid fighting with Sirius. Sirius clung to Harry, who had leaned his head on his godfather's shoulder and turned his eyes alternately to his uncle and the half-giant, sobbing quietly.

"Sorry, Sirius. Instructions from Dumbledore. Gotta take him." Hagrid pointed to their son and mad a huge step towards them.

Sirius backed off and hugged Harry tighter. "I'm his godfather, Hagrid. J-James and Lily wanted me to take care of Harry if…i-if…" Padfoot sniffled and took a deep breath to regain his composure. "I cannot let you take him away from me, Hagrid. I'm sorry, I just can't. I can't lose him, too."

Hagrid watched the desperate wizard with a sad look. He too had been crying recently, judging by the wet marks on his cheeks. He looked sheepishly at Harry, who had again snuggled into his uncle's embrace. "Dumbledore's order, Sirius. Must keep with it. Said, little Harry here needs to be protected."

"Protected from what? Voldemort is dead and he had taken my best friends with him!"

Hagrid flinched violently. Sirius smirked. "Vol-de-mort", he said, pronouncing every syllable extra carefully and watched the half-giant flinch again, "is dead. Harry has defeated him. Why should he not be allowed to stay with me? I can protect him! I _will _protect him!"

James observed the discussion keyed-up. Why did Dumbledore not want Harry to grow up with Sirius?

_Oh, no!_ James turned to Lily, who held her hand over her mouth and looked at him, horrified.

_What is it?_

_Dumbledore doesn't know that Sirius wasn't our secret keeper! He thinks Sirius is the one who betrayed us and told Voldemort where we were hiding!_

James gulped. _But… But Dumbledore knows Sirius. He had known him for years! He wouldn't…_

"'m sorry, Sirius. Have orders to bring 'im to his only relatives. Dumbledore has his reasons."

"To those Muggles?"

James stared terrified at Lily's wide-open eyes. _No! Petunia hates magic! She hates me! Dumbledore cannot seriously believe that Harry will be treated well while in her care!_

"Yeah. Dumbledore's waitin', so…"

Sirius looked from Hagrid to his little godson and smiled at him sadly.

"Harry?" Harry looked up at him, his large emerald green eyes widened. "I'm sorry, kiddo. Dumbledore will take you to a safe place, okay? But don't forget that I love you!" He squeezed him tightly and buried his face in Harry's tousled black hair, which resembled his father's so much. "Mummy and Daddy love you! Never forget that!"

*~*HP*~*

The street was dark. The streetlights flickered and the sky above them was black, not a single star was to be seen in this autumn night. Sirius marched over the cobbles with resolute steps, rounded a corner and headed for a relatively large square. There were some people on the road that strolled laughing from pub to pub, yelling, clearly intoxicated.

James and Lily had to run to keep pace with Sirius.

_What is he up to?_ If she were still breathing, Lily would be out of breath. _Do you think he will…?_

_I hope not._ James remembered only too well what could happen when Sirius was angry – so angry that he'd cast his reconsideration to the wind. The last time someone had nearly lost their life, even if that someone had been Severus Snape. But James was sure, though he tried to convince Lily from the opposite, that Sirius had murder in mind. Murder of the one person of whom Sirius was the only one to know was responsible for his and Lily's death. Peter.

"PETER!" Sirius stopped dead in the centre of the square, his cold, stormy grey eyed homed in on the other end of the square. There stood a rather chubby, small, trembling man, whimpering with fear.

"SIRIUS! Why? Why did you kill Lily and James?"

_WHAT?_ James stared at Peter, completely stunned. First he betrayed them to Voldemort, and now he tried to foist double murder on one of his living best friends?

The ignorant Muggles who were on or near the square stopped and turned to see what was going on. A group of teenagers who were on their way to the nearest pub turned to each other. The girls began to whisper, the boys stood protectively in front of them, covering them from clear view.

Sirius boiled with rage as he pulled out his wand and pointed it at his former friend. "You'll pay, rat", he whispered, ignoring the excited whispers of the onlookers who had gathered around him and Peter. When he took a breath to utter the curse, the whole square near the spot where Peter had just stood exploded, parts of the road and buildings flying through the air. Sirius stood frozen, his wand pointed at the crater in the ground, which took up large parts of the village centre. And then all hell broke loose. People were screaming, screeching, crying, running about wildly and in the middle of all, Sirius stood and laughed hysterically.

Ministry employees, Aurors and Memory Wizards apparated to the ruined plaza, surrounded the laughing Sirius and pointed their wands at him. "Sirius Black, we accuse you of the murder of Peter Pettigrew, Lily and James Potter, as well as the attempted murder of Harry Potter and hereby condemn you to a life in Azkaban."

No one but Lily, James and Sirius saw a rat disappear into a gully of the destroyed square.

*~*HP*~*

It was some time before the two could move. That couldn't be happening! First their lives, then their son's and now Sirius' life were completely destroyed in just one fateful night.

_Oh, God! They cannot send him to Azkaban without a trial! He hasn't done anything! He is innocent! They cannot just…_

_I know, Lily._ James stepped forward and put his arms around her, gently pulling her into his embrace. Lily wrapped her arms around his neck and began to sob violently. _That's not fair at all!_

_Shhh, I know. Everything will be alright, love. You'll see!_ He was amazed at how sincere his voice sounded. No tremors, no whisper. Although the only thing he felt like doing right now was to scream and rage and swear, but he pulled himself together. It would be of no use to lose his temper now. They had to look after Sirius! And after Harry! He still couldn't believe that Dumbledore had brought his son to the Dursleys. The very same family that despised magic and his wife and son above all else. And with those people his son would have to grow up? How could Dumbledore think that Harry would be treated well in the slightest? He was a wizard and the Dursleys would wait for him to show any signs of accidental magic just to have another reason to hate him even more. Wasn't it enough already that he had just lost both his parents as well as his godfather? No, Dumbledore had to put even more burdens on his tiny shoulders and condemn him to a terrible childhood! Shortly after they had cast the Fidelius Charm, they had taken the promise from him that he would never – under any circumstances – send Harry to Lily's sister. Sirius, Remus, Mrs Figg; everyone would have been better than that horrible Muggle family!

_We need to look after Harry_. Lily looked up and stared at her husband, eyes brighter than normal. _Hagrid must have taken him to Dumbledore by now._ James angrily gritted his teeth and had to take a deep breath twice to stop himself from immediately apparating to Little Whinging – or whatever ghosts would do – and strangle Dumbledore single-handedly. Harry, _their Harry_, in the same house as the family of horse-face, the walrus and the pig!

Trembling, Lily took his hand and nodded to him. Sirius could wait. She was sure that he could hold out for the next hours without their presence. She had to see how her little darling was doing and if he was treated well – at least as well as they could expect from a woman like Petunia.

She closed her eyes and imagined the look of the street in which Petunia and her walrus of a husband had moved to after their wedding. Privet Drive with its identical rows of houses and unnaturally clean front gardens. With destination, determinations and deliberation, she took a deep breath and turned on the spot. The well-known feeling of being squeezed through a tube made her feel of being suffocated – although he could no longer breathe… Old habits are just hard to shake off. But instead of landing in front of her sister's house, she was drawn back through the tube. The darkness was bone-crushing and her grip on James' hand only tightened in order to not lose him in the chaos. With a jerk, she ended up back at the ruined square of Godric's Hollow. Puzzled, she turned to James, who looked a bit dishevelled and breathless.

_What was that?_

James shook his head and looked around. _I have no idea._

Around them, Ministry officials were busy casting memory charms on the Muggles who had survived the explosion, after interrogating them and asking them to explain what exactly it was that they had witnessed.

_We don't seem to be able to get out of Godric's Hollow._ James turned to Lily, who was staring at him with her bright green eyes. That couldn't be! That _mustn't _be! How could they be with Harry, if they couldn't leave their home town?

_But we have to get out of here! Harry needs us!_

_I know!_

Lily began frantically to run to and fro. There had to be a way! Their son needed them – both of them.

She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. James watched as Lily desperately tried to find a solution to their problem.

_Okay, it cannot be our magic. If we wouldn't have it anymore, we couldn't have started the apparation just now. So there had to be another reason. Wait a minute…_ She stopped abruptly and stared at the entrance of the cemetery, which was located at the other side of the square, darkened by eerie shadows. _I have read something about ghosts a couple of years ago_, she murmured, slowly turning her gaze to a bewildered James, who was staring at her with wide eyes and his mouth slightly open.

_You don't mean…_

_That's exactly what I mean!_ Lily's eyes blazed as she stopped in front of James, took his hands in hers and looked into his hazel eyes. _I have given you a book at that time, so you could use it for your Defence research! It described, among other things, how the ghosts of Hogwarts have managed to leave their place of death! Do you remember the conversation we've had with the Nearly Headless Nick? He died in Wales and yet he is the house ghost of Gryffindor. He said he had sucked the energy out of his murderer, just like the Grey Lady had taken the Bloody Baron's magical energy after her murder! We need magical energy to get out of here!_

_That may be true, but from where do you plan to take it? Lily, we are the only magical family in this place. With the exception of Bertie of course, but I'd hate to kill her. _James frowned. _Unless…_

_Unless what?_

_Unless we don't need a living being to sacrifice their magic. You just said that our magic is still intact, right? Otherwise you wouldn't have been in the condition to apparate. So what if I…_

_No!_

_Lily, just think about it._

_No! Either both of us go, or neither of us!_

_Lily! Harry needs us! Hagrid has just condemned him to a childhood in Petunia's care! Do you think we should sit around and sulk because we cannot be by his side? No! He needs his mother, and we have a way to make that happen. So why not? It's better if one parent is there with him as if he's on his own._

_But…_ Lily's eyes began to prickle. _James…_

_It's our only chance to be with him_, he whispered and wrapped his arms around her. He ran his hand lovingly over her fiery red hair and murmured soothing promises in her ear. _Everything will be all right, Lily-Flower. You'll see._

*~*HP*~*

"Stop whining and be quiet!" With a bang the little wooden door of the cupboard under the stairs thunked shut and Harry heard the all too well-known rattle of the chain. Trembling, he settled on the old broken-down mattress, the tops of the metal coil springs peeking out of its old fabric. Sniffling, he lay down, pulling his knees up to his chest and stared at the wall where a spider had just completed its elaborate cobweb and crawled to the edge, extremely satisfied and ready to patiently wait for prey.

Harry had long ago lost his fear of spiders. He didn't really like them, but if you lay on a holey mattress in a broom closet, body shivering due to ague and aching limbs and the only ray of light illuminated a spider, even this small creature was a bit more interesting.

_Oh, my little sweetheart! Petunia! I swear! When you'll die at some point, then you'll have to deal with me!_

_Calm down, Lily._

Lily huffed and sat down on the floor next to her son.

About a year ago they had found out that James, although he was stuck at Godric's Hollow, was able to talk to her – even if only for short intervals. She suspected it had something to do with the fact that he had lent her his magic temporarily so she could be with their son and thus he was somehow connected with her. She wouldn't vouch for that theory, but one got creative when for years she had no one else to talk to than her husband, whom she hadn't seen in person all this time. Lily had occasionally tried to return to Godric's Hollow, just to see James again. However, he wouldn't hear it. _Harry needs you_ was the only response she got when she addressed the topic.

But she knew why he didn't want her to leave their three year old son's side. The scene that had happened before her own eyes just now was enough confirmation that they made the right decision and did the right thing. How could one lock a sick child in a closet? Without any care, without any interest how he was doing, without any affection? Well, if her dear sister would like her son even the slightest bit, the cabinet wouldn't be a topic she had to worry about in the first place.

A sniffle pulled her from her thought. Harry had coiled up and tried desperately to get his sobs under control. It broke Lily's heart to see her son being so distraught.

Loud steps announced the arrival of the pot whale, as he positioned himself in front of the small door of the cabinet and banged away at it with all his might. Harry flinched violently and a sob escaped him. Horrified, he slapped his trembling hand over his mouth and stared straight though his mother at the wooden door, eyes blood-shot and wet, just as his uncle started to bellow loudly.

"SILENCE! Otherwise, there'll be no food for the next two weeks! You hear that, boy?"

Lily put a hand on Harry's back. His body twitched and trembled with suppressed sobs.

_My darling._

Harry turned to his side, pulled the thin, dirty bed sheet over his small body and closed his eyes tightly. Just before he fell asleep Lily heard him mutter "Mummy! Daddy! Please."

*~*HP*~*

Booming laughter reached his ears as he cowered on a branch, peered around it and tried to assess whether Ripper could jump up the two metres separating him from a panicked Harry Potter. He doubted it. This dog was way too fat to jump more than then inches high. His pant his leg was torn slightly. When he had tried to climb the tree as quickly as possible, Ripper had caught his pant leg and had tried to pull him down so he could mangle him. The branch on which he sat was relatively thin. For the first time in his six-year life he thanked anyone who would listen that he was given only leftovers to eat – if at all.

Lily hovered under her son and watched the yapping dog that barked himself into a frenzy. Would she be able to manage a kick he would feel? Vernon's sister Marge was standing a few feet away from her, fat as ever, the moustache still unshaved. Grumbling, she wondered whether Marge really was a woman. She only looked like one with a lot of imagination. On the other hand, she had the same genes as the pot whale himself, so she shouldn't expect too much. Dudley had lost his interest some time ago and was sitting in front of the TV, a package of donuts in his lap. If he continued on with his eating habits of the last years, he wouldn't reach the age of forty. How could Petunia not see that? Ah, when one spoke of the devil. Her lovely sister stood about two metres behind her sister-in-law and her husband and views the situation as an outsider. Harry, who clearly needed help, she ignored, instead she glared daggers at Ripper, as if he was responsible for her messed-up life. She had never liked dogs.

_I cannot believe it! These monkeys just stand there and laugh at my son? Oh, just how much I would give to be alive again and give them all a good kick in their fat arses and then hex them into the next century!_

Lily couldn't agree more.

*~*HP*~*

"…and so we were forced to inform you that your nephew was found today during lunch break on the roof of the main building. He denied ever having climbed the roof. We therefore ask you to talk to him about this incident and hope that it won't happen again. Sincerely, the Headmistress."

Harry gulped and took a step back when his uncle slowly looked up from the letter and glared at him, his small pig eyes glinting dangerously. "Boy!"

"I swear I didn't do anything!" Harry drew back another step when his uncle got up and started to build up in front of him. "Steven and his friends chased me and suddenly I was on the roof! I don't even know how I ended up there! It wasn't on purpose!"

_Accidental magic._

Lily nodded. If she and James were still alive, they would have explained to Harry by now why all these strange things happened around him. Just like the incident with the hair cut as her sister had disfigured her son's hair and the next morning all his hair had grown back. Harry had been given three weeks of closet arrest and a week without anything to eat, even though he couldn't have been held responsible for it at all! Lily already started to boil with rage just thinking about it! Harry had to be so scared, without having the slightest idea about what was wrong with him.

"Do. Not. Say. Another. Word." Vernon hissed the words with so much hatred in his voice that Harry instinctively flinched and turned towards the staircase. He knew what was about to happen.

"You're a freaking no-good, just like your damned parents! A bunch of freaks! Doesn't help that this rabble couldn't raise you, because they've managed to get so wasted that now we're stuck with you. Hah, don't make me laugh! As long as you're living under my roof, you'll stop with these abnormalities, you got that, boy?"

Harry tried desperately to fight the tears that every time his uncle said something about his parents, tried to obscure his sight.

"And now get into the closet! NOW!"

Harry whirled around and ran through the kitchen, into the hallway, threw open the small wooden door and rushed inside. His uncle was panting after him, and arrived just in time to slam the door shut with full force. "And that's where you'll stay for the next week! And today there'll be no food for you!"

Harry picked himself up from the dusty floor and sat down on the too small mattress. He quickly wiped the tears from his cheeks and squeezed his eyes shut to prevent more from running down his cheeks.

"No. I don't believe that", he whispered, sniffling.

Lily knelt down next to her son and fought again her own tears. The feeling of having to cry didn't vanish with death.

Both she and James knew what the Dursleys had told Harrys about them. His father was said to be a drunk, unemployed and violent. His mother would not give a shit about him, and didn't do anything to prevent his drunken father to drive them to a certain death. Lily put her head in her hands and took a deep breath to calm herself. Not even one person of the wizarding world had come by for the last seven years that Harry was stuck here to see how her baby was doing! Harry knew nothing about his identity, about his magic and about his parents. It broke her heart, and even if James wasn't able to talk with her because their connection would be in danger of collapsing due to prolonged contact, she could still fell his anger and bitter despair deep inside of her. She felt the same way.

When she looked back up, she saw Harry's bright green eyes had adopted a defiant look. He was tired to hear all the time that his parents had not loved him! He didn't believe that!

"Mum and Dad would never do that! I just know it!"

Sobbing, Lily wrapped her arms around her son, keeping a small distance from his skin, so she wouldn't pass right through him.

_Oh, Harry!_

*~*HP*~*

Harry stared at the bag in his hand, trying very hard not to give in to the impulse and throw it into the next best garbage can. His first ever Christmas present was therefore a small, holey bag with crumbs in it that slowly made their way through the large meshes of the fabric and trickled on to the ground. Harry blinked. Why? Why didn't they just lock him in the closet like every Christmas and continue to ignore him? That would be better to cope with than this joke his aunt called a 'gift'. He had learned early on that they hated him, but that was a bit of a stretch.

Lily was furious and even James' upset calls couldn't stop her to frantically try to pick up vases and flowers and chairs and throwing them into her sister's direction. Every time she passed right through the objects, she growled even louder and tried the next item. Kicking didn't work either.

*~*HP*~*

Lily hovered beside her eleven year old son and tried desperately to get him to understand that he had to go through the wall between platform nine and ten to get to the Hogwarts Express. But as much as she tried, Harry searched the crowd again and again, looking completely lost. He had even asked one of the guards whether he could show him the way to platform nine and three-quarters, had then, however, quickly made his way back through the crowd as the man began to berate him. There just had to be a way to get in touch with Harry! But how?

Harry pushed his trolley with his suitcase and owl on top to the edge and took advantage of the small break to look around.

_Why didn't Hagrid tell him how to get onto the platform?_

Lily sighed. _I'm wondering that too, James. I haven't got the slightest idea. Now Harry is left to wonder around all alone and somehow figure out how to get to the school train that would transport him to the British school of magic. As if that's going to work, if he can only ask Muggles._

Lily bit her lip. How badly she wanted to just take his hand and tell him in a soothing voice that all he had to do was to step through the wall in front of him and she and his Daddy would soon follow to kiss him goodbye.

*~*HP*~*

"What are you playing at?"

Harry stared at Justin Finch-Fletchley, as if he had grown a third eye. What was he talking about? He had just prevented him from getting bitten by the snake! What was his problem? When he straightened up and looked around to ask Hermione and Ron whether they knew what had gotten his wand in a twist, he saw all the eyes of his classmates and his teachers focused on him – all of the, were wide with fear. What was going on?

He spun around, ran along the duelling platform, through the Great Hall and through the double doors, closely followed by his two best friends.

_Harry is a Parselmouth?_

_Seems like it_. Puzzled, Lily blinked as she watched her son disappear around the corner. Ron and Hermione hurried after him, probably anxious to know why Harry had never told them about his talent.

_Has something like this ever happened in your family before? It's impossible he has it from my side of the family, seeing that all of them are Muggles._

This was followed by silence as James went through his family tree in thought. _No, not that I know of. My family is full of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, without exception. There has never been a Slytherin, let alone Slytherin himself._

_Strange._

*~*HP*~*

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Lily bit her lip as the two spells met each other and their son was fighting for his life – again. How could he be in the safest place the world had to offer and yet get attacked each year?

Harry's arms began to shake under the enormous effort. Gasping, he clutched his wand more tightly in order to push the glowing orb that had been created by the two spells hitting each other towards Voldemort. For some reason, he knew he mustn't allow it anywhere near his own wand tip. Drops of sweat trickled down his temples as he desperately tried to send the ball back into the wand of his parents' murderer. He could do it! He had to if he wanted to get out of there alive!

_What's happening?_

Lily jumped as she heard James' voice in her ear. She had forgotten all about him. _Harry is duelling Voldemort_, she whispered and watched wide-eyed as the glowing ball was pushed further and further towards Voldemort.

She felt James' excitement and fear for their son's life through their connection. She didn't blame him. She felt the same way. Sure, they knew that Harry would sooner or later keep them company, but that moment wasn't supposed to be now! It was way too early for him to die! He was supposed to lead a long, happy life! A life, in which he was happily married, maybe even has children and had nothing to regret. He was supposed to overcome all his burdens of his young life. But she hadn't seen him being completely happy for years and it broke her heart. If there was someone who deserved to be happy, then it was her Harry. She would give anything to see him happy. She would make sure that he would be happy!

A deafening bang filled the silence on the cemetery when the orb collided with Voldemort's wand and seemed to explode. Thin golden threads wriggled out of it and surrounded the murderer and her son, locking them in a magical cage. With a jerk, she could feel the connection between James and her shatter, but had no time to cry out in shock as in the next moment she was pulled towards Voldemort and disappeared in the darkness of the wand.

Harry stared at the tip of his opponent's wand and watched as one body after another seemed to float out of it. An old man, a woman with medium length hair and glasses, Cedric – he gulped – and ultimately the two people he had not seen in thirteen years; his parents. He gasped as they glided over and came to a halt right next to him.

"Mum?" His voice was trembling. "Dad?"

They smiled at him lovingly.

"Harry, listen to me", James' voice echoed from the golden walls of the bell-shaped globe. "We can delay him, but only for a moment. Then you'll need to run, you hear me? Flee! Seek shelter! Be safe!"

Harry nodded frantically, staring at him with tear-filled eyes. James smiled at him sadly and nodded slightly. "We are proud of you, son", he whispered, running his transparent hand over Harry's tousled hair.

Sniffling, Harry tried to smile.

"Harry?" His head spun around. Cedric hovered a few feet in front of him, a snivelling smile in his lips as he watched the scene before him. "Take me with you, okay? Bring my body back to my father."

Harry nodded. Yes, he would do that!

"Honey", Lily gave him a kiss on the cheek as she looked at him with blood-shot eyes. "You're ready. Let go, sweetheart. Let go!"

*~*HP*~*

Horrified and helpless, Lily had to watch Sirius, one of her best friend and brother, lose his footing, the last mocking laughter still on his lips, fall backwards and disappear behind the veil. That couldn't be happening! Not Sirius! No, please! Not Sirius!

_SIRIUS! _James' blood-curling scream was enough to push her onto her knees. She could only stand by helplessly and watch as Harry broke away from Remus' clasp and sprinted after Bellatrix Lestrange, murder in mind.

*~*HP*~*

_He's going into the forest, isn't he?_

_Yes_, Lily whispered as she watched her son as he took the snitch Dumbledore has left him out of his pocket, muttered something and stared at the small black stone, which was located inside the snitch.

Lily frowned. _Is that…?_

_Lily? What's going on?_

_I think Harry has just found the Resurrection Stone_, she said soberly, and watched as Harry took it out of the little golden ball and inspected it carefully. _It was inside of the snitch._

She felt James swallow. He knew why Dumbledore had left her son the stone, just as she knew it. He was supposed to greet death with open arms without looking back.

_He's turning it_, she whispered, staring intently at Harry. One, two, three tomes he turned the Resurrection Stone in his blood-crusted and dirty hand, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Lily jumped as a warm feeling in her arms and legs made her whole body tingle. Something wasn't right. Was that… Lily's eyes widened when she saw Harry's soft smile and judging by the determined expression on his face, she knew what kind of feeling that was. She smiled. She would finally be able to speak with her beloved son! After all these years in which she had tried to make him realize that he was not alone. Carefully, she took a step forward and flinched as beneath her feet a twig broke apart. Her smile became broader. The leaves rustled at her feet as she walked over them. She could move them! She would be able to touch Harry, and he would be able to see her! Carefully, she came to a halt right in front of her son. His eyes were still firmly closed, the effort was written all over his beautiful face. Whether he wondered if it would really work? She wanted nothing more than to hug hum, pepper him with kisses and never let him go. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him and how very proud she was of him. But as long as he had his eyes closed, she was silent. She didn't want to scare him. Her wonderful, perfect son! How much he looked like James. The nose, the hair, the ears. She smiled at the thought that the cheekbones and eyes he definitely got from her. And his jaw was shaped a little rounder and softer than James'. However, she also recognized his father in that part of his handsome face.

Slowly she opened his eyes and Lily's breath, as always, caught in her throat as she looked into the emerald green of his eyes – _her _eyes. She smiled at him lovingly, overjoyed that his eyes and view didn't go right through her, and overly proud of what kind of person he had become.

She felt him before she heard him. James' light steps were hard to hear but as he stood next to her she didn't know what hit her. She had not seen him for sixteen years, had only ever heard his voice, and to have him standing beside her now took away her ability to speak. Right now, she couldn't be happier. James next to her and her son before her. He had become such a wonderful person – kind, friendly, polite, courageous, loving… and powerful. And she knew that if anyone would be able to help them to help them improve James' and her connection and free James from Godric's Hollow, then it was Harry – her son.

"We are so proud of you", James' whispered words snapped her back to the present. Pride and undying love for their son illuminated his eyes, his face, his whole being. "So unspeakably proud."

"I didn't want you to die for me. None of you. I didn't want that", Harry's voice trailed off as tears ran down his scratched cheeks and left wet traces behind.

With a sad smile she looked at him. "We know that", she whispered, not sure if she could trust her voice. She kissed Harry gently on the forehead. How often had she done that all these years before without Harry feeling her touch, she didn't know. But he felt it now – his eyes closed for a moment and Lily had to fight her own tears. "We don't blame you for what has happened to us." He had to understand that none of this was his fault, that it wasn't his fault that they couldn't be with him.

Next to her James seemed to think he same. He smiled and nodded slightly. Behind them they could feel the air move as Remus and Sirius slowly approached the little family.

"Sirius", his soft voice barely above a whisper. "Remus."

James did not need to turn around to know that his best friends were beaming at his son. After Sirius had fallen through the veil, although they hadn't seen him again, he had still managed to get in contact with them from time to time. Thanks to him they knew before Harry did that Remus was now with Sirius.

"Hello, Harry."

Harry sniffled and wiped the tears from his eyes when blinking alone didn't work anymore. The smile that tried to reach his lips looked painful and sad. He wasn't happy. He and Lily hat vowed after Harry's birth that they would do everything in their power to see Harry happy, to make sure he would be happy. They had not wanted the war to take away his childhood and light-heartedness. He didn't deserve that.

_James?_ He turned to Lily and saw that she looked at him with a determined expression. _We have to try!_

He nodded and turned his attention back to his son. They had to tell him that they were with him and in need of his help! They somehow had to make him understand that only he could free and unban them.

Behind them his best friends disappeared in a swirl of colours. He was aware of them not doing Harry any kind of favour by visiting his dreams to speak with him, but they didn't have another choice. With each passing day their connection to each other grew weaker and weaker and it was only a matter of time before it would finally collapse. He put all his concentration into this one thought and felt Lily so the same.

"No! Remus! Sirius! Stay with me! I don't know what to do!"

Harry leapt forward and watched desperately as his two uncles vanished. Lily took his dirty hand in hers and tried to smile at him. James put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. How much he had missed that feeling…

"You have to listen to us now, darling. It's important."

James could feel Harry's subconscious struggling against their intrusion. They didn't have much time left.

"We need your help."

His son looked at her confused and frowned. He would never get used to the look of these eyes, and he didn't want to. "My help?"

James struggled with all his might against Harry's subconscious mind. He didn't blame his son for trying to fight the intrusion from the outside. He didn't know that it was his parents and not some random, leftover Death Eater who wanted to cause him pain. His hand on Lily's hip clenched as she turned to look him in the eyes. Oh Merlin, how beautiful she was. Even the last sixteen years had not been able to banish this sight from his memory. It was burned into his mind forever. Lily smiled slightly and put her warm, soft hand on his cheek.

"Mum?"

Her smile widened as her fingers brushed over his skin, gazing lovingly into his eyes. "We can do it! I'll keep on waiting." They both felt his power to maintain the connection subside.

With a wistful smile to her, he turned to his son. The last thing he saw was the bright green of his eyes.

"Dad? DAD!"

Lily stifled a sob and quickly turned to her son. She had no more time. She still had to tell him so much, but she barely even had the strength to formulate a decent thought. She had to tell him that they needed him!

"Your father is where I was before." Her voice whispered the words without her noticing it. "It happened sixteen years ago and since then we are trapped."

_I have to tell him!_

"Trapped? What are you talking about?" Harry looked confused, trying desperately to make some sense of her tangled words. She could only hope he succeeded.

"You are going to help us, aren't you, sweetheart? Please!"

"I don't even know what you are talking about!"

_No! Please! I need more time! He must understand! Please, Harry! Please understand!_

"Please, Harry." She felt her strength diminish and Harry's subconscious win the struggle. She took a deep breath and tried to concentrate more, but it was no use.

"Please", was the last thing she could shout, and was ripped out of Harry's dreams.

* * *

A/N: I hope you liked it! I'm still writing the next chapter, so I don't know when I'll be able to upload. Please leave a comment to tell me what you think of this chapter! I really appreciate every single one of you reviewing :)


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